The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1887-06-03
OUT. OF THE WOODS.
"Thou Art Not Alone if Thou
Hast Faith"

"Alone in the world!" These are
The words that we can imagine might
belong to an old, old man, who had
Outlived all the darlings of his youth
and the companions of declining
years Yet it was a young girl who
said them--and this on one of the
loveliest spring mornings that ever
dawned upon the beautiful valleys and
hills of romantic l.
She was sitting in the library of an
isolated country house, beside a writ
ing-desk covered with papers. But
sse was not reading. Her head was
leaning upon her hand. her face was
pale, hereyelids swollen as with long
weeping, and she sighed deeply, as she
said aloud, in the despair of desola-
tIon: "Alone in the world!'
Instantly, as if her heart had anti
phonal voices, and one spoke in an
swer to the other, this sentence spran o.
from memory: "Thou art not alone
if thou hast faith" Whose these
words of wisdom were, or whether
they were wise, she did not pause to
consider. She was too miserable for
wisdom.
Thou art not alone if thou hast
faith"
She lifted herself from her dropping
posture, and, going to the window,
threw the sash up wide, and gazed out.
A smooth lawn, dotted with larches
and clumps of of arborvite; beyond, a
hedge of some deciduous plant, vivid
green in spring foliage; ravine, ris-
ing abruptly on the opposite side into
a steep hill, itself one of many hills
rolling like firm pillows into the dis
tance-first green with foliage, then
blue with mist, and last, amethyst
with far-off reflected sunlight; above
all, the sky of morning and the sky of
May, just reaching June, which in
reality is spring in this northern lati-
tude
Birds sprang up suddenly from the
lawn, and flew off together westward.
''Where are they goingp" pondered
Amy Leigh. 'Who guides themq
Who cares for themP They are not
alone as l am; they have their own
simple companionship. They have
flown towards the Maple Woods. /
will follow them"
She went out into the open air-so
mild the morning was, she needed
no wrap-and took with her her little
1nitting-case, thinking:
81 will sit under the trees. and knit
awhile, and listen to the birds singing;
and perhaps l shall become more calm
10 make my plans for to-morrow-for
tomorrow l must so away, some
where"
Across narrow bridge, direct from
the lawn, began the wood-path that
He'd under the NAPLES, and those
maples!-they We're so grand, and
covered q space 50 extensive, that they
had given the.name to long stretch
of farm lands lying beyond.
Instead of sitting under the trees to
knit Amy wandered along the path,
soothed and comforted by the delicious
air, the freshness of the growing green
things, and the songs of the birds, who
were building nests with all the zest
of young housekeepers.
There were wild violets growing un.
der the trees, and they heguiled hel
from the path, and she pushed farther
and farther into the depths of the
woods, the deep solitude answering al
most like companionship her own
mood, and, without its sorrow, too
gently consoling.
Wandering far in the painless place
she at last struck a wood-road again
and, after resting for few moments
beside a merry little brook that touched
the path, and then turned and darted
off into the green maze, she began. as
she thought, to retrace her steps, but
having followed this road at long dis
lance, until she was faint with fatigue
she came to sudden halt, with the Elk
CARNATIONS:
II have lost my way!'
She leaned against one Of the OLD
trees, and tried to reason In what di